Rich Relations by David Reynolds, a book about the US presence in Britain during World War 2 includes this reminiscence from Bob Sheehan, an American lieutenant on his way to his embarkation point in England for the Normandy landings. His convoy has stopped before a row of houses:

“Here a group of men, women and children all stood watching the never-ending columns of tanks and trucks…they waved now and then, but truth to tell, they were waved out. Overcome by the awesome sight of this enormous cavalcade, they just stood still. We somehow became aware of their anxiety and feeling for us. It was as if we had assumed the object of all their hopes and fears for the coming struggle.

“Then from the house to our left emerged a mother-figure with bowls of strawberries and cream. She handed them to me and gave a gulpy kiss to my forehead. “Good luck,” she said. “Come back safe.”

“The rest of the onlookers were then galvanized into action. Figures hurried down to waiting vehicles and the crews were invited to come in for a hurried wash and, in some cases, shave. Yet others brought out tea and lemonade. There was a kind of togetherness that I had never seen before. A sharing of spirit. It was no longer them and us. We were family and danger was afoot.”

It still is, and we still are.

On September, 14th, 2001 I found myself in Union Square, New York City. The square had been turned into a makeshift memorial park, filled with candles, banners, posters and, everywhere, those terrible, tragic fliers each asking for some information, anything on those, some still prayed, even then, three days after mass murder, were simply the ‘missing’. Towards the southern end of the square, there was a large Union Jack, surrounded too by candles. Across the flag someone had written this:

“Just like D-Day. America & Britain stand together. Brothers-in-arms to rid the world of evil. God bless America.”

We were family and danger was afoot.